


Say It

by cats_anddarkhairedbeauties1818



Category: The Strain (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2370674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cats_anddarkhairedbeauties1818/pseuds/cats_anddarkhairedbeauties1818
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no place for soft emotions inside camp Treblinka. However, in the close quarters that contain the creation which Abraham has been commissioned to complete, something is budding. Feelings are a dangerous thing, something both Setrakian and Eichhorst will find as they explore past their hatred and into a realm unknown...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say It

          Abraham hung his head between his shoulders, arms stretched out before him as he took a lunge-like stance. Rotating his neck back and forth, the man couldn’t stop a groan from escaping his lips. Fingertips slowly slipped from the tools which by now had worn permanent indentations in his sawdust coated hands. Every muscle in his upper body ached; the combination of exhaustion and starvation taking its toll on his already thin frame. He found his hands shook constantly now, every movement leaving him breathless. It was becoming harder for him to hide his exhaustion from his keeper. The last time Eichhorst had come in, the man had asked about his sleeping habits; a thing Setrakian had been lying about for weeks now.

          Now, it was something the prisoner could no longer hide. The skin under his eyes was shiny and purple, much like a fresh plum. The whites of his eyes had turned a sickly pink while red veins multiplied in the corners. Were it not for the work he had been given, and the isolation that came with it, he would have certainly been considered useless or ‘too sick’. While he didn’t thank his commanding officer for this, it was defiantly a blessing to be chosen for this special project. The sound of the loose metal knob screeching against the wood of the front door caused Abraham to jump back into a standing position. Gritting his teeth at the wave of pain that crashed within his muscles, he hurriedly assumed a working position over the large cabinet. Forcing his tools back into his jittery hands, the Armenian shut his eyes tight as his body betrayed his pain with a strained hiccup. The noise was enough to slow the heavy heels of the Nazi officer.

          “A-230385?” Eichhorst’s usual sing-song voice that carried Abraham’s number held a different tone this time. As his cage door opened and closed, Setrakian dared a sideways glance at the other man. What was written on the German’s face was something like concern, causing confusion to bubble within his chest. With it, like always, surged suspicion and defensiveness. The officer took his hat from his head before placing it upon a chair behind him. Never taking his eyes from Abraham, Eichhorst studied the drawn features of the man under his charge. The frown only deepened upon his Aryan features, lips forming a tight line of disapproval.

          “Look at me Jew.” He commanded, even as Abraham attempted to hide his face in the shadows of the room. Eichhorst quickly grabbed his jaw, forcing the other to obey the command. The press of the officer’s fingers upon his strained face caused Setrakian to flinch, something he did not have enough energy to hide now. Lips parting slightly, the Nazi’s face softened a bit as he loosened his grip. “Have you been disciplined? Is this the reason for your unsightly state?” When Abraham did not answer, Eichhorst only narrowed his eyes. “You look like the death that walks with the old.” Giving a small smile he continued on. “How long has it been since you have slept, eh? I have seen insomniacs look more alive!” The officer laughed at his own joke before shaking his head a little. He looked over his prisoner once more before letting go of Abraham’s face, giving his cheek a soft pat.

          “I suppose I do not sleep well, no.” Setrakian spoke softly, eyes drifting to the floor before glancing back toward his work. As he moved to resume he felt fingertips upon his shoulder. Swallowing past the dryness in his throat, he looked back at the other man, nervously darting from the others’ steady stare to the space just past him. It was a moment before his leader seemed to find the words he was looking for.

          “I have asked many things of you Jew, all of which you have obeyed perfectly. While I expect you to devote all of your energy to this, I would be highly disappointed in you if you were the product of your own downfall. By now, I believe you know not to disappoint me.” While his words were not unlike anything Abraham had heard in the past, the expression that was forming upon his keepers face was enough to set the initial spill of confusion into a boil. He had spent enough time with the monstrous man to know the best way to read him was to read the expression in his eyes. There had been enough empty threats given to test this theory. However now, the fire that burned within the heavenly blue before him was something new. They bore into him with the usual hatred and amusement; much like that of a twisted child who had found enjoyment from peeling the wings from a butterfly. Yet, something else fought alongside these powerful emotions. Something just as strong…but what…

          “I don’t want this beautiful creation to be the death of you. I, and myself _only_ , will be what will take you in the end. Do you understand boy? _You do not fall until I say you do_.” Eichhorst hissed, quickly closing any gap that previously stood between the two. Abraham felt his skin prickle on his scalp, dread sweeping over him like a wave. The musk of the other filled his nostrils as the world around them seemed to fall away. All he could here was the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears and the shallow breath of his captor. Now, with nothing to focus on but Eichhorst’s eyes, he attempted to blink back any fear that clouded his mind.

          The Nazi’s pupils were blown, causing the blue rings that surrounded the black to appear far more brilliant. A low noise erupted from the German’s throat that after a moment processed in Abraham’s mind as a laugh. It was at the same time that he was able to place the unidentified emotion he so presently saw now; desire. Nausea rolled within him as shame burned over his skin turning his ears and cheeks a bright crimson. Eichhorst responded in time with what could only be described as a hybrid between a growl and a moan.

          Eichhorst moved forward now, forcing Abraham to back up. It only took two steps backward before the project the Armenian had been working so very hard on stopped him, ramming into the small of his lower back. His mistake was allowing another gasp of pain past his lips. The noise only seemed to fuel the hunger that coursed within the others’ eyes. Still, the officer pressed forward, forcing Abraham to lean back, causing him to support himself from falling back on the surface.

          “You are _mine_ Jew.” Eichhorst purred before forcing a knee between the other man’s legs. Pressing it up into Setrakian’s crotch, he grinned cruelly when the action produced a whimper. “ _Say it_.”

          Swallowing hard, he felt his bottom lip tremble slightly. Dropping his gaze, he attempted the command. “I…” Fighting past his fury, he shut his eyes tight. “I’m yours.”

          “Tell me ‘I’m yours, _Thomas_.’” the Nazi almost moaned, eyes tracing over Abraham’s features. This new request elicited a daring glare from the prisoner which only earned him a snarl and the knee to be pressed harder. His cheeks burned hotter as his own body began to betray him, the blood rushing only leaving him lightheaded. Taking a shaken breath, he tried to find his voice.

          “I’m yours… _Thomas_.”


End file.
